


Self-Reliance

by Starmouse123



Series: Hierarchy [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, No mpreg, Omega Dean Winchester, Plot Driven, WIP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 00:45:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9692219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starmouse123/pseuds/Starmouse123
Summary: While on the run, Castiel and Dean are captured by hunters of the Old Hierarchy and whisked away to the Forests, deep into the heart of the society Castiel has been trying to escape for so long. Although no one in Lawrence will be able to help them now, there’s a small rebellion brewing in the west, and an opportunity has emerged, ripe for the taking.It’s time to fight.





	

Four Years Ago

Sam took a swig of the spiked whiskey still left in his flask, glancing furtively up at the house he was parked in front of. Ruby had mixed up this batch herself; she liked Sam when he was on the stuff, and to be honest, he liked it too. He’d felt so powerless these last few months, since Dean had disappeared and John had finally kicked the bucket, and Red made him feel good again.

So did Ruby. After so much fruitless searching dead-ending at an abandoned Impala in an empty parking lot, and a sparse attended funeral in the middle of a downpour, he'd needed the comfort. Things were finally moving up from that rock-bottom that Ruby had pulled him from, and now Sam just had to keep it that way.

Her family was the only real challenge he needed to overcome.

Hence where he was right now, parked in front of the house of Azazel’s right hand man, Alistair.

Sam had been leery getting into all this, but Ruby was adamant. She loved her family, and wanted them to love Sam almost as much as she did. Ruby couldn’t change the family she was born into, and Sam had to accept that.

They were true mates, after all. Not like he was going anywhere else. He didn’t have anything holding him back.

Sam fleetingly thought back to what he left behind in California, but shook himself out of it.

This was his life now. He just needed to own it.

For Ruby, he’d do almost anything. She smelled like home, something he didn't have anymore.

With another last swig, Sam screwed the flask back up and put it away. He got out of the car, looking up to see a thin man with a long face watching from the porch. His scruffy beard and ill-fitting clothes lent to an air of dishevelment, but his gaze was sharp.

“Ah, Sam!” the man said as Sam approached him, “so nice to finally meet you.” His voice was high and nasally, almost melodic in tone.

“Alistair,” Sam greeted, taken aback when the man sidled up to him to shake his hand in both of his. Alistair smelled like a beta, all clean and acidic, and Sam withheld a grimace.

“Come in, come in,” Alistair told him, gesturing to the opened door, “I bet you’re eager to get home to Ruby. I won’t keep you long.” When Alistair led the way, Sam followed. Inside, he could only pause for a second to take in the opulent décor, all dark wood and silver lining.

“You know,” Alistair mused, still leading him through the house, “never thought I’d see the day Ruby would settle down. I mean, you’ve met her father, haven’t you? And I mean that in the best way possible, since he’s my boss.” Alistair led him through another set of glass doors, finally stopping in what looked to be his office. A heavy looking wooden desk sat in the middle of the room, covered in electronic equipment and important looking papers, a shining silver knife acting as a paperweight.

Before he could really take it all in, Alistair swiped the knife out of view. “Whoops, forgot I had that in here,” he chuckled, and picked up the thick envelope that it had been resting on. Turning around, Alistair leaned back and took a second to look Sam over, turning the envelope over in his hands.

“Let’s get down to business, shall we? Do you know why you’re here?”

 “Of course,” Sam bluffed. “Is that what Azazel sent me over for? The envelope?”

“Mmm.” Alistair said, but didn’t move. “This is the bonus we give to our new members. After they earn it.” The envelope kept turning over in his hands, hypnotic, and Alistair sighed. “Sam, I’ll be honest with you. Azazel sent you to me because I am a great judge of character, and I’m just not so sure you can handle it.”

Sam felt a bead of sweat track down his temple. “I can handle myself around Red just fine-“

Alistair tsked and shook his head. “Ah, Sam, Sam, Sam. Whatever shall we do with you?” Sam flushed at the tone. There was no doubt Alistair knew he was hopped up on Red at this very moment. “Dabble in Red all your little heart desires. That’s not the real money-maker around here.”

“What do you-what do you mean?” Sam furiously rewound what he knew about Ruby’s family in his head, but came up blank. They had all been very vague about this meeting, and Sam hadn’t been very suspicious about that. Red made him bolder, more aggressive, more  _opportunistic_ , but it also blunted the edges enough so that his thought processes weren’t as sharp as he would have liked.

Maybe this had been a bad idea.

“Let’s just say we cater to  _all_   _sorts_  of physical cravings. Red does produce a few of them, does it not?” Alistair raised a knowing eyebrow.

It only took him a second, from personal experience. “ _Sex work?”_  Sam asked incredulously, dread roiling in the pit of his stomach.

Alistair only smiled.

It wasn’t the legal kind.

Jess had known a friend who’d been a sex worker voluntarily to pay for school, but this was the dark underbelly of the industry, not caring about something as flimsy as  _consent._

Did Ruby know about this? Sam thought hysterically, then had to conclude that yes, she did. There was no way she couldn’t know what was happening. And she still expected Sam to just go along with it?

This was the black hole he thought he’d be able to circle and still come out intact. He’d been naïve to think he wouldn’t be sucked into it immediately.

Considering the shining knife Alistair had hidden on him, Sam didn’t think he’d be able to back out. No wonder this revelation happened in a controlled environment, with their most able and trusted enforcer to carry it out.

He just had to pretend long enough to get out of this hellish encounter.

“You can see why I’m having some misgivings, can’t you?” Alistair put the envelope down. “A straight-laced boy like yourself needs something  _extra_  to play follow the leader. We’d rather keep to the carrot, though. No need to use the stick unless we _have_ to.” Alistair’s smile was a sly thing, all sharp edges meant to cut. He couldn’t have reminded Sam more of a serpent ready to strike if he’d tried. “We’re very good at making people disappear, and I’d hate to disappoint Ruby. Wouldn’t you?”

The threat was a real one, but instead of being cowed, the embers of a starting betrayal burned hot in Sam’s gut. How _dare_ they?

“And you expect me to go along with all this?” Sam asked, catching himself before he started pacing in agitation.

“Sam, I expect you to _enjoy_ it. No need to be so coy. We all have our appetites.”

Sam clenched his jaw shut, heart pounding. What a sick bastard.

Alistair just watched him, eyes glinting. “You’ve been sampling the goods for free up until now. It’s time for you to earn a place at the table.”

A sick feeling roiled up his throat, choking Sam into silence.

With a gesture to follow, Alistair left the study through a side door. For a moment, Sam stood frozen in place, reeling, before he could move.

Sam started through the side door and down the next hallway, following Alistair with heavy feet.

At the end of the hallway, Alistair opened a dark wooden door and stepped into the room behind it. “Come in and meet my pet, Sam.”

Almost immediately, an intensely familiar scent hit him Sam the gut.

He couldn’t believe it at first, not until he reached the doorway.

The darkened bedroom they entered was as beautifully decorated as the rest of the house, a wrought iron four poster bed dominating the middle of the floor.

Dean was in the center of the bed, arms bound to the bed frame above him.

He was naked apart from the leather collar around his neck, bruises darkening his pale skin.

There was a long second where they recognized the other, while Alistair was turning around, still talking.

They’d been keeping Dean from him, like _this?_

All Sam could see was _red_.

Alistair was unprepared when Sam roared and crashed into him, sending them both tumbling onto the mattress.

They struggled, warring for leverage.

Alistair, even pinned, was stronger than Sam. With a short snarl, Alistair writhed and head-butted Sam in the face. Stunned, Sam reared back, blood in his mouth. His hands lost their purchase, and Alistair broke free. 

Alistair wrenched an arm out, and Sam only saw the flash of metal before he remembered the knife.

In a flash, a pair of legs wrapped around Alistair’s arm, pinning the knife-wielding hand above them.

Dean.

The reminder made his eyes burn red again. Enraged, Sam had both hands around Alistair’s neck before he realized it, uncaring as Alistair clawed bloody furrows into his arms, trying to dislodge him.

Alistair choked and gurgled for breath, his struggles weakening, but Sam only squeezed harder, snarling, arms tensing with the effort.

He didn’t notice the moment Alistair stopped moving altogether.  

It took Sam a few long moments to fully come out of his haze, panting from exertion. Alistair was staring up at him, unblinking, bursts of red in the whites of his eyes. Startled, Sam drew back, his hands unclenching with difficulty from around Alistair’s neck. He looked up.

Dean was watching him, something terrible in his face.

Sam could feel his eyes still burning red, a dead giveaway.

“This isn’t - I’m not-“ horror clawed its way up his throat.

He had to lean over the bed to throw up.

When he was done, Dean hit him with a foot. “Untie me, Sam, fucking now –“

Sam scrambled to comply. “Dean- you’re alive! We all thought you were dead – the Impala –“

“Spare me.” Dean snapped, and shoved Sam back when he was freed. “Stay the hell away from me.”

Confused, Sam stood back. “What-?”

“You think I don’t see your eyes?” Dean sneered, “you only killed Alistair because it was me and not some rando omega. You’re here, aren’t you? Came calling with a little pep to help you along.”

Shaken, Sam flinched back as if struck. “I didn’t know-“

Dean ignored him to focus on the collar around his neck, finally unbuckling it and throwing it across the room.

“Dean, you have to believe me, I didn’t know! I only did this because my mate-“ Sam had to stop at the betrayal, “she dragged me into this. I can’t believe she knew-“

Dean brushed past him to the closet, throwing it open and rummaging for clothes. There were healing welts on Dean’s back, and Sam’s eyes dropped to the dark bruises on his hips as he pulled on a pair of pants.

“-Dean, please.” Sam said, too upset to argue at all. He dug his fingernails into the palm of his hand, drawing blood, trying to stop the tears blurring his vision.

The comedown from Red was always rough, but this was the lowest he’d ever been.

He deserved it.

When Dean was dressed, he walked to the opposite side of the room to a wet bar cabinet Sam hadn’t noticed until now, giving Sam a wide berth. “I can’t deal with you right now, Sam.” he said, tone and expression flat.

Mute, Sam watched as Dean grabbed a tumbler full of dark liquid and turn back to the bed. He paused for a second in front of Alistair, lip curling, and then took a long swig of it before he upended the rest over the mattress. Next, Dean retrieved a box of matches from the side table and lit one.

“Good riddance.” Dean muttered, tone dark, and dropped the match.

The whole bed caught, flames rippling across the surface and over Alistair’s body.

Sam could only stare numbly as he did it. This felt like a bad trip, time moving too fast for him to catch up.

Dean turned away and pushed Sam out of the room.

They both made their way out of the house in silence as fast as they could. Dean walked with a limp.

Sam’s hands couldn’t stop shaking.

Dean almost walked past Sam’s car, until Sam unlocked it and the lights flashed. They heard the fire alarm go off from inside the house.

When Dean gestured for the keys, glancing around, Sam wordlessly gave them over.

“Was there anyone still in-?”

“No.” Dean replied curtly. “Alistair, he only-“ His jaw worked for another second, but Dean turned to get in the car instead of saying more.

As soon as they were both in the car, Dean peeled away from the curb.

Sam could only hunker down in his seat, the knowledge of his spiked flask taunting him from the glovebox. “What are we gonna do?” he asked faintly. The life he’d planned with Ruby had unraveled in the span of minutes, and he was at the bottom of a whole he didn’t know how to climb up out of.

After a second, Dean shrugged one shoulder. “We go home, first. We’ll decide-“

“We can’t go back to your house,” Sam interrupted, stopping Dean.

He glanced over. “What do you mean? Sam?”

“Dean –“ there was no good way of breaking this news. “I don’t know how to tell you this. Dad passed away when you were gone, so I sold the house to-“

The car swerved and came to a stop on the side of the road.

Dean turned away from Sam, putting a trembling hand over his face. Sam could only watch as Dean tried to keep it together, breath shuddering.

“Dean?” Sam asked, voice small.

Dean ignored him, but after another minute, his wounded scent turned sour with anger.

“You have your phone on you?” Dean asked finally.

Sam nodded.

"Good. We have some work to do."

 

 

 

 


End file.
